


Soft Lullabies & Empty Skies

by xxCat1989xx



Category: Pentatonix, Superfruit
Genre: Anxiety, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-08
Updated: 2017-02-08
Packaged: 2018-09-22 22:26:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9628007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxCat1989xx/pseuds/xxCat1989xx
Summary: It always hits when he least expects it.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is therapy. I've had a rough few hours and thought this would help. 
> 
> Any mistakes are my own, and I fully expect there to be some, so please let me know if you see anything.
> 
> Love you all.
> 
> Cat x

He hates this feeling.

It always creeps in when he’s been having such a nice day.

Waking up next to the most perfect human being he’s ever met.

Rolling over and snuggling into his side.

Kissing his way across skin and muscle until he reaches his neck.

Sliding up until he’s straddling his bedmate.

Leaning down and kissing him like it’s the last kiss they’ll ever have.

He loves those mornings.

When they don’t have to rush out of bed.

No tour, no interviews, no recording, no Superfruit.

They can finally take their time.

Skin on skin, sweat sliding, lips raw from bruising kisses.

Nowhere to be except right where they are.

Sometimes things happen to set it off.

He can kind of accept those.

(Though he really has no idea why this keeps happening to him.)

But it’s the times when there is  _ no _ reason to feel this way he hates the most.

A dark cloud brews on the horizon and it doesn’t matter how much he laughs or smiles or loves, he knows he doesn’t have long until it’s overhead.

First his smile slips a little easier, a little quicker off his face.

It gets harder to think of reasons to keep it etched there.

Then all of his energy gets sapped.

Getting off the sofa takes longer and longer, and he can’t pick his feet up as he walks, shuffling through the house like zombie.

He hunches as he walks, head bowed.

Like he has the weight of the world on his back and his shoulders can’t take the strain.

Then the pain in his chest starts.

Like his heart is beating so fast against his sternum that it’s going to break through.

(Even though he checks his pulse and it’s beating just fine.)

It hurts.

He keeps rubbing his chest to check it isn’t cracked.

The image of him lying bleeding and broken on the floor stops him dead in his tracks.

His breathing hitches in his chest.

He tries counting in and out for five beats on a never-ending cycle.

Only makes it through one before his chest seizes, like his lungs have frozen.

He drops to the sofa and pushes his hands into his eyes.

Rubbing so hard he sees stars and when he opens them it takes a moment for the flashes to clear.

Blood rushes around his body, just under the surface of his skin.

Flowing so fast he feels jittery, like he’s shaking hard enough to bring the house to ruin.

Like he’s stood in the middle of a blizzard and the cold has soaked into his bones.

He knows he should call out, should really call for Scott.

Let him know what’s going on, even if he can’t help.

But the shout only comes out as a whimper.

“Hey baby. Feel like going out tonight?”

His guardian angel steps into the room, light radiating around him as he stands in the kitchen doorway.

He whimpers again.

Holds his shaky hand out to Scott.

“Oh Mitchy.”

Next thing he knows he’s surrounded by his own personal sunshine.

Warmth, safety, love.

The shakes subside first, leaving him tired and his skin burning.

And then he starts breathing easier.

Can take deeper breaths for the first time in a while without getting stuck halfway through.

The crack closes, seals like it wasn’t ever there.

He stops running a hand up and down his chest, no longer needing to check.

“Feeling better?” Scott asks.

A hand runs up and down his arm softly.

Warm, sweet breath ghosts over his face like a caress.

Slowly, he sits up, pushing himself further into Scott’s side.

He nods, but still doesn’t speak.

“Okay. Come on, sleep now.”

Lets Scott pick him up bridal style.

Gets carried to their bedroom and tucked into bed.

Sighs happily when Scott climbs in next to him and holds him close.

Falls asleep to soft lullabies and empty skies.

**Author's Note:**

> Social media links in bio.


End file.
